Taz looks over to his cousin Marco with some worrisome thoughts. He’s been sitting here at the bar for over an hour, nursing a bottle of beer. He hasn’t said a word since he got here and for some strange reason the bar was crowded today even before dinner and he had no chance to go talk to him. Maybe he will get a break when the guests start to leave for dinner, because the look on Marco’s face is not good at all. ‘He hasn’t been like that in years.’ Taz’s wolf comments. ‘Since that accident, you mean?’ Taz asks back. ‘Yeah. Talk to him.’
Marco is feeling down and depressed and he knows the beer won’t help. He only took a swig of it and he is holding on to the bottle like it’s a life line. He’ll only make it warm and undrinkable, but he can’t get himself to care. He peaks down to see Lars
